


Over the Wire

by The Neon Gang (clgfanfic)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 15:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4751033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/The%20Neon%20Gang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the team gets sick while on a mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the Wire

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Magnificent Slash AUs #6.
> 
> This AU was created by Clara Moore. This story was originally done as a birthday gift for her, set in her AU.

**Larabee and Son, Deep-water Salvage and Consultants**

**November 8, 2004, 0610 Hours**

 

Chris Larabee heard the footfalls as his former CO, Orrin Travis, descended the stairs leading to the gym. Ignoring the man's unexpected arrival, Larabee continued with his bicep curls, the exercise sending beads of sweat rolling down his face, chest, and arms.

A file folder in hand, Travis picked his way over to join the blond, stepping around a workout bench, a hanging body bag and a free-weight stand. He tugged open the buttons on the jacket of his charcoal gray suit as he greeted him without preamble, "Chris, I need your help."

Larabee forced out five more curls, then set the heavy free-weights down on the floor. He straightened and grabbed the towel that hung over the end of the workout bench, wiping his face as he replied, "You ever think about dropping by when there's nothing going on? You know, just to say 'hi, how're doing, you wanna go get a beer?'"

Travis handed Larabee the file. "Too damn early for beer. This is serious, Chris."

Larabee draped the towel around his neck, then accepted the proffered file. Flipping it open, he skimmed the details. Looking up to meet Travis' anxious gaze, he said, "You had to know this was going to happen, sooner or later. The crackdowns on criminal organizations in Mexico and Colombia have pushed the syndicates into _Central_ America. The drug lords and the guerrillas there are better armed than most third world armies – hell, better than most any army."

Travis offered a half-shrug, then stepped over and sat down on the padded bench. "It _has_ happened before, but our people were able to get themselves out, or the Colombian government was able to extricate them."

Larabee reached up, holding on to the ends of the towel. "But not this time?"

"No," Travis said sadly, "not this time."

"Do we know where our people are being held?"

Travis rested his hands on his thighs and sighed heavily. "We do, and I'll get you all the latest information available in an hour or two, when the keyhole satellite makes another pass, but this is more delicate than you might think."

"More delicate than members of our military getting caught engaged in an undeclared war in another country?"

Travis snorted. "Hell, Chris, everyone knows that we're aiding the Colombian government with their, uh, drug problem, shall we say? We're doing the same for a half-dozen other Latin American counties. Not to mention Iraq and Afghanistan."

"So why do you need us? Send in Delta Force or a SEAL team, or the local operators our special ops people have trained, and get those hostages out of there. It's what they'll expect us to do anyway."

"Like I said, it's not that simple," Travis replied, pushing to his feet and pacing. "This time the son of the Honduran Defense Minister was along for the ride when the plane was shot down."

Chris cocked his head to the side and shrugged. "Seems to me his father would want to get him back as quickly as he can; so he'd play ball with us."

"The problem is this; we think the boy was the informant who let Acosta, one of the drug lords who has connections with the guerrillas – hell, they're calling the whole lot of them 'narco-guerrillas' now – know when and where to expect the overflight. But Medera's father refuses to listen to reason. He's blaming _our_ people for the leak. As a result, the Minister's grounded any future flights or joint U.S.-Honduran military actions until his son's returned by whoever's holding him, and – I quote – the 'American traitor' is brought to justice. In the meantime, it's business as usual for the drug lords. We have three days, Chris. Then there's a major shipment that's sure to get out of the country unless we can stop it."

"You're not asking us to stop that shipment, are you?"

"No," Travis said, coming to a stop and shoving his hands into his pant pockets. "We need you to go in and get our people, the Honduran Rangers, _and_ Carlos Medera out of Acosta's hands. But complete deniability is essential. Our government cannot be caught going blatantly against the wishes of the Honduran government; that might damage an already tentative relationship beyond repair."

"That's not going to be easy," Chris cautioned. "These guys have to know who they've got, and what it means to them. They've just effectively shut down the opposition."

"As I said, we think Medera helped them bring the plane down. They know all right; we're just waiting to hear what they want. And they have to know that as long as they're holding Medera, our hands are effectively tied – in an official capacity. And one thing's for sure; they're going to use this situation to move as much product as they can out of the country."

Chris walked over and grabbed a half-empty water bottle. He sucked down several swallows, then asked, "What makes you think Medera's still being held with the others if he was in on it?"

"We have someone on the inside, at the Ministry; if Medera had surfaced back home, we'd know about it. At this point I don't give a damn about the kid. I just want our men and the Honduran rangers freed. So, what do you think?"

Chris thought for a moment, then said, "I think we'd better get those people back as soon as possible. I'll talk to the team."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

**8 November, 2030 Hours**

 

That evening, Larabee watched his team digest the briefing he'd just spent an hour presenting. They looked thoughtful, but eager – just what he'd hoped for. They were all good operators, all good people, and he trusted that they could get the job done. But it wouldn't be easy.

Buck grinned, saying, "I agree it's something we have to do, but it's going to be a helluva long walk through the jungle to reach them."

Chris' eyebrows rose and fell, his expression turning slightly teasing as he told his old-time friend, "We're not going to walk."

"Jump?" Ezra asked.

"HAHO, HAHO, it's off to work we go," Vin replied, absently twirling a long bullet through his fingers.

"That's hiho hiho?"JD corrected a little absently as he studied the satellite images.

"No, high-altitude, high-opening night jump. Man, I thought those days were over for me," Nathan groaned.

"I knew that," JD replied, blushing slightly at his mistake.

"All right," Chris said, "let's get down to business. Josiah, you'll cover our exfil. Travis promises me he can get you a chopper, and a second pilot."

Josiah nodded. "Sounds good."

Chris pulled out an enlarged satellite photo from the pile scattered across the tabletop and laid it in the center of the table. He pointed. "This is our HAHO target, Cusuco Lake. We'll drop from thirty-two thousand feet off static lines so our chutes will open automatically. That'll keep us bunched up as much as possible."

"How long?" Vin asked, the bullet still moving steadily through his fingers.

"It'll take us about seventy-five to eighty minutes to glide down. When we land, we'll be about fifty miles from Correderos in the south and fifteen miles from the Cusuco National Park, which is near the Guatemalan border. The lake's about three miles from a small village that's… here," he said, pointing. "Between the lake and the village is our objective, a compound where they're holding our three people, three Honduran Rangers, and the son of the Defense Minister. You can't really see it here; it's been camouflaged so the satellites can't eavesdrop.

"Cusuco Lake is seven miles long and almost five miles wide, so we shouldn't miss it. And it's also pretty shallow, probably no more than sixty feet at its deepest point. We'll use the Motorolas on the way down, to make sure we don't overshoot and end up in the trees. If it looks like you might miss the lake, circle around and come down on target. I don't want anyone getting hung up in the trees." He looked at Ezra. "Think you're up for this?"

The former federal agent glanced first at Vin, then at Buck, who gave him a small nod and a smile. Turning back to Larabee he said, "I believe I can do that."

"Good," Chris replied. He'd already asked the two men about Ezra's progress on the more complicated HAHO and HALO jumps they had been training him for, but he wanted to hear it from Standish, too – not that he ever lacked confidence. However, he was realistic. But if he said he could do it, he could.

"Okay," Larabee added, handing out a handwritten list to each operator, "this is the extra gear you'll need to bring. Get it together and get to bed. We'll leave tomorrow at 0600 for Panama, we'll jump at 2100."

Vin accepted his list and briefly scanned it – nothing unexpected. He coughed and shook his head, trying to ignore the scratch that tickled the back of his throat.

"You okay?" Nathan asked as he leaned in next to Tanner, pressing his shoulder against Vin's.

He nodded, tucking a strand of his shoulder-length hair behind his ear. "Yeah, just a scratchy throat. Probably payback for that jog in the rain yesterday."

Nathan nodded, eyes alight with mischief. He had a pretty good idea that it wasn't a jog, but a trist with Chris on the beach. "Gargle with some salt water."

Tanner nodded. "Already did."

Nathan gave Vin's shoulder a gentle bump with his, then headed off to pack his gear.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**In the air over Honduras**

**November 9, 2100 Hours**

 

Chris disconnected the internal communications unit that patched him in to the airplane's system and watched while his team carefully inspected each others' rigging, gear, weapons, and combat vests. When they were done he checked them all again himself, then had Vin and Buck look over his own latch-up. When he was satisfied that they were all good to go, he checked his watch – about twelve minutes to the drop point.

He motioned the others to gather around, then spoke loudly so they could hear. "Nothing new from Travis. We go as planned. Stay within fifty feet of each other on the drop, and don't forget to pull up when you reach the lake for an easy landing on the surface. Remember, water can feel like a rock if you hit too hard."

"When do we start using our portable oxygen?" Ezra asked.

Vin, who was standing next to him, wondered if he was feeling sluggish as a result of the jetlag. He hoped the pure O2 might help wake him up.

Chris glanced at his watch again. "Any minute now; as soon as the red jump light goes on. That'll put us ten minutes from the jump point. We have two hours of oxygen, which should be more than enough."

The red jump light blinked on.

"Okay, turn on your oxygen and let's have a radio check," Chris ordered into his lip-mike.

"Ready, willing, and able," Buck stated.

"Roger that," Vin replied.

"Tallyho," Nathan offered, grinning.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Ezra finished.

Larabee looked over at Josiah, who was riding with them, but who would stay in the plane so he could go back and pick up a chopper for their ex-filtration. He gave the man a thumbs-up. "Don't be late!"

"I'll be there," Josiah replied. "Good luck!"

The loadmaster stepped into the hold of the C-130 Hercules from the cabin and motioned to Larabee. "Sir, we're about seven minutes from the drop. You better get hooked up and ready."

Two minutes later the six-member team was lined up, Ezra, JD, and Buck on one side of the big cargo hatch, Chris, Vin and Nathan on the other. A few minutes later they heard and felt the whoosh of the cold night air as the nine-foot-long ramp dropped down from the top of the plane. The jump light still glowed red.

Two minutes more and the light shifted from red to green.

Larabee nodded. "Go, go, go," he barked into his lip mike and the operators ran forward.

Vin felt the familiar jolt of anxiety he always felt during a jump. Then he took one last running step off the ramp, rushed out of the big hold, and fell off the end of the ramp into the blackness of the South American night. Icy cold air wrapped him in its biting grip as he forced himself into an arch, his arms and legs spread out so he wouldn't tumble. Six seconds later he felt his drag chute pull free from his main chute, then his fall began to slow as the rectangular, steerable chute gradually deployed in the thin night air, sparing him a bone-jarring jerk.

He grabbed his straps and looked around until he spotted five bobbing glow-lights. In his ear he heard Chris say, "Listen up. Use your compasses. We're on a bearing of three-forty degrees. Let's hit that lake dead center. Radio check."

"Buck."

"Ezra."

"JD here."

"Nathan."

"Vin," he managed, hoping his lip mike hadn't frozen up. It was cold, colder than he'd expected, and his throat was hurting again, making each breath burn against the roof of his mouth.

He checked his altimeter – 30,100 feet to sea level; a long ride down. To take his mind off his throat, he mentally reviewed the briefing again. Their objective was a small compound about a mile outside of the Cusuco National Forest. The village and surrounding countryside was controlled by a local drug lord, who was also a renegade from the Honduran Army – Colonel Alvaro "El Torro" Acosta. The Honduran government had tried to apprehend Acosta, but it had quickly proved too expensive in money, lives, and time. Ever since, "The Bull" had been left alone in his jungle stronghold, free to produce his drugs and build up his army. And it wasn't hard, since Acosta ruled like a bandit lord over the local villagers and Indians, forcing them to work in his drug factories for the most minimal wages. The compound they hoped to infiltrate was well defended, but not inaccessible, according to the reports Travis had passed along.

And now Acosta was holding three Americans and three Honduran military men hostage. _He must be feelin' confident he's untouchable_ , he reasoned. _Well, he's gonna find out just how wrong he is_.

He checked his compass and realized that he'd drifted about fifteen degrees off course. Reaching above his head, he grabbed his steering toggles and tugged down lightly on the left-hand control. When he thought he was back on course, he checked the compass again. _Bingo_.

An hour later, his arms were cramping from the constant grip he'd had to keep on the control toggles in order to stay on course. His back ached from the dead weight of his rucksack, dragging at his harness, but all that was erased from his awareness as Vin approached the clouds that rushed toward him like a vast, fuzzy, cotton-ball floor. It was uncannily beautiful.

The cloud deck flashed past the bottom of his boots, so thick that he expected to feel them dragging at his legs as he sank deeper, but there was nothing except a sudden close blackness that wiped away the stars and coated his visor with water droplets that streaked up and off as he continued to fall.

He checked his altitude again – just over three thousand feet left to go.

"Okay, people, time to go dark," Larabee announced into his ear receiver. He saw two glow sticks on either side of him blink out, the clouds making it impossible to see the remaining two. He had just managed to disable his own chem-light, his fingers oddly clumsy, a moment before he punched through the bottom of the clouds.

"Damn, geometry _does_ work," he heard Buck comment.

The overall scene below was shrouded in darkness, but Vin knew the gaping black void directly below them was water. Lights from Acosta's compound, almost a mile away, danced dimly across the still surface at one edge. Farther north he could make out a few scattered lights that marked the town of Cacule.

He coughed and was surprised when a tearing sensation burned through his upper chest. _Oh crap_ , he thought. _Not now_. But there was no time to consider what might be wrong; the surface of the water was rushing past at a startling speed. He unsnapped his rucksack and the secondary equipment bundle that held some of Buck's explosives, letting them fall to the end of their tether line where they dangled twelve feet beneath his feet. The shock of the weight hitting the end of the tether rocked him, but he kept control and followed the steps he'd rehearsed more times than he could remember, turning the quick release box to the unlocked position, then pulled the safety pin and opened the safety covers on his Capewell releases.

Ten meters above the water he sucked in a deep breath that sent daggers through his lungs and pulled down hard on both steering toggles, curling down the upper rear edge of his canopy. In response, the front of his chute folded up high and, for a moment, he hung motionless in the sky, caught in a tentative balance between a gentle landing and spilling too much air, too soon, which would plunge him into the lake – hard.

The moment passed. His forward speed arrested and he dropped toward the surface like a stone. His rucksack and equipment bundle struck the water first, the tether giving Vin a savage yank as the last of his forward inertia was stopped by the drag of the weight. The lake surface rushed up at him, his feet kicking up spray before he even knew it.

At the last possible moment, Vin squeezed his left-hand Capewell release and pulled down. The chute snapped free on that side, billowing up and spilling its remaining air. He plunged into the water with enough velocity to rip his oxygen mask free. Before he could begin searching for the mask, bitterly cold, black water sucked him down.

Vin's attention shifted and he fumbled with the right-side Capewell, finally releasing the chute entirely. That done, he quickly hunted for some sign of his oxygen mask.

His hands grappled with a pull-ring at his waist, inflating the rubber flotation jacket he wore over his combat harness. As the jacket filled with air, his descent slowed, then stopped. From the pressure on his sinuses and ears, he guessed he must be a good thirty or forty feet beneath the surface. He searched for his oxygen mask again as the floatation jacket began dragging him slowly toward the surface. To speed his ascent, he kicked as hard as he could, holding his breath.

The climb seemed to last forever, slowed since he was heavily weighted down by his gear. And just when he thought he wouldn't make it, he broke the surface and sucked in a deep breath. That set off another round of coughing, each one sending tearing hot claws to rip through his chest. When he could think again, he treaded water and listened.

A moment later he heard someone splutter and gasp for breath to his left. He kicked, propelling himself as best he could inside the cumbersome life-preserver toward the sound.

He softly called out his password, "Talon," then coughed again and groaned softly.

"Mustang."

It was Chris, but he couldn't see him. Then Larabee was beside him, asking, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he replied, shivering. "Just swallowed a little water, I guess."

Working quickly and quietly, he and Chris strapped their floatation packs together, then gathered in their parachutes, bundling them with their reserve chutes and letting them sink. Their oxygen bottles and masks followed, Vin finding his mask cracked and floating useless behind him. With that done, they freed their weapons, balancing them on top of their float-packs.

They drifted motionless for a short time, huddling together for warmth. Vin coughed again, fiery claws raking through his tight chest and squeezing painfully. "Damn," he hissed softly.

"What?" Chris asked.

"Nothing," he assured him, "just cold."

Chris pulled him closer, offering him what extra body warmth he could share.

A few minutes later, Buck and Nathan paddled up after giving their recognition signs. JD and Ezra appeared right behind them and the six operators started pushing their gear toward shore. When their boots scraped against the lake bottom, they crawled the last few yards on their hands and knees, coming ashore on a narrow rocky edge.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**In the jungle, 2250 Hours**

 

"Any hurts, sprains, rips or tears?" Larabee asked when they were all well hidden in the trees. No one replied, so he continued, "Okay, let's get down to business. Nathan, you and I will do a recon on the compound. We'll be back before daylight. The rest of you find a hide hole and settle in. Get some sleep. We'll move out again as soon as it's dark tomorrow."

The others nodded, moving to find comfortable spots that would also keep them hidden during the daylight hours.

"Let's move."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

**Near Acosta's compound, 2330 Hours**

 

Using their night vision goggles, Chris and Nathan found a gentle slope leading down from the saddle where they stood to a shallow valley below. Another short ridge lay beyond the valley, giving way to rain forest. In the valley, the trees had been cut down in irregular patches, cultivated crops taking their place and providing Josiah and his backup pilot with a variety of potential landing zones.

They headed down, Larabee checking his watch every ten minutes. When they could see the lights of the compound they finally rested.

"Not sure if those are security lights, or if they're working the locals in 'round-the-clock shifts," Chris speculated aloud.

"I hope it's not a night shift," Nathan replied. "We'll have to find a way to chase those civilians out of there, or risk them catching us."

Chris nodded, frowning. "Let's get closer."

Less than twenty minutes later they lay just outside the eight-foot high wire fence that surrounded the compound. Camouflage netting was erected tent-like over the entire complex, making it invisible to all but the most powerful satellites. Earth-moving machines had flattened a good-sized chunk of the jungle, including half of a smallish hill. Larabee guessed the compound was nearly a half-mile long and dotted with a series of wooden buildings each with corrugated metal roofs. Most of the structures they could see sported lights on at least one corner of the building, though most were not turned on. Now all they had to do was find out which one held the prisoners.

"Up there," Nathan said quietly, pointing. "See that cut on the hill? The fence isn't as high as the cut. We could jump over that if the fence isn't electrified, just lift the edge of the netting and go."

"Good eyes," Chris said with a grin. "And I don't see any signs that they've got it juiced."

"Any idea which building we want?"

"We'll just have to watch for a while," Larabee replied. "But my guess would be that smaller one toward the middle, the one with the lights front and back."

As they lay in the shadows, watching the seemingly deserted stronghold, a Jeep appeared from around the corner of a building not far from the well-lit one Chris had noticed, and headed straight for it. It stopped under one of the lights and the two men riding inside climbed out and entered the building. Two different men exited the building, got in the Jeep, and drove off.

"Midnight change for the guards?" Nathan suggested.

Larabee nodded thoughtfully. "Looks like."

A few minutes later, they watched as another Jeep swung out from behind the building closest to their position and headed straight to the fence, where it turned and continued down along the wire as far as they could see.

When it was gone, Chris checked his watch. "Better time this guy. I'll bet that second Jeep's on a regular schedule of rounds."

"Be good to know," Nathan agreed.

"We'll have to get though our hole, rewire the fence, and get out of sight before the driver gets back."

"You know," Nathan said, "given how thick this jungle is, we could probably move up here during the late afternoon, get here just after dark."

Chris nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. That'll give us a good ten hours of darkness to get the job done and beat-feet."

Almost exactly half an hour later the Jeep returned, its slow circuit around the fence complete.

"Twenty-six minutes should be enough time," Nathan said.

Chris stared at the complex, trying to decide where the best place to breach the fence would be. Then they heard a chopper. It lifted up from the far side of the largest lit building, and rose through what must be a good-sized hole in the cammie netting, sweeping over the complex end-to-end, a brilliant spotlight tracing a twelve-foot-wide circle on the ground through the netting, as it moved along a little faster than a walk. That done, it swung off in the direction of the nearby village.

"That could be trouble," Nathan said.

"We might have to take it out if it's back when we hit the compound. I just hope Acosta only has one. Wish we knew how many troops he has inside the wire, too."

"Looks like we'll need that diversion," Nathan said.

"Buck should be able to handle that," Chris replied with a slight grin. "He said he brought along a lot of big booms. We'll breach the fence at the same time."

Nathan rolled over and stared at the blond. "Chris, why don't I go in now? I could move around, find out where they're holding our people and the Hondurans. I could work around until it's almost daylight if I have to, then get out and wait for you."

Chris shook his head. "Too dangerous. If they catch you, they'll know we're coming and be ready."

"Not a chance. I can hide in a damned bean can if I have to. We can't shoot our way in, then try to find the right building. If I go in and find 'em, we're ahead of the game. And if I don't find 'em, we're no worse off than we are right now. But I know I can find 'em."

Larabee sighed. "It's a good idea, but I'm not sure I want to risk my medic."

"The biggest risk is not knowing where to go once we get inside. As soon as they know we're here, they could put all their guns where the prisoners are and hold us off."

"Where would you go in?"

"I'll jump over where I told you."

"How will you get out?" Chris asked, willing to go along, but wanting to know what Jackson had planned.

"I'll use one of the rain gullies under the fence. See?" he asked, pointing. "There's one right there; looks like it's about a foot deep already. Quicker to jump over now, then dig out after I find the prisoners. Is it a go?"

Chris scowled into the darkness, but he nodded. "Yeah, but take my MP5 and four mags; the silenced rounds might help."

"I won't kill anyone unless I have to, but I might have to knock out a few."

Chris smiled. "While you look for the hostages, I'll move up and dig out that gully with my K-Bar so you can slip under when you're ready. I'll be in the light, so it'll take me a while."

"Done," Nathan said, handing Chris his H&K G-11 automatic rifle, exchanging it for the MP5 and the extra mags, then he dabbed more cammie makeup on the exposed skin of his face, hands, nose, and ears. That done, he tugged down his floppy hat and said, "I'll see you back here if I find the right building as fast as I'd like. If not, I'll have to find someplace to watch from."

"Be careful," Chris cautioned as he watched Nathan move into the darkness, heading toward the cut in the hill. He waited a minute, then began working his way toward the small wash under the fence.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

Lying in a natural depression, Vin stared up at the night sky, starless due to the clouds he's HAHOed through earlier. He shivered, but there was nothing more he could do to get warm. To add to his discomfort, his muscles all ached, and he could feel a fever beginning to build, his breath feeling fiery as it passed over his lips.

He silently checked his watch: Two hours since Chris and Nathan had left. _Damn_ , he thought. _Why the hell did I have t' get sick now?_

He closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep, but the constant complaint from his muscles made that impossible. Shifting slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, prompted a soft sigh of frustration.

Movement in the foliage caused him to freeze. A moment later, Buck's voice was whispering into his ear, "Coming in on your right."

Vin let his breath out and stifled the need to cough as Buck eased silently down beside him. "What's wrong?" Tanner asked.

"Was gonna ask you the same thing," he replied, his tone concerned.

Vin felt the blood rush to his face, staining his cheeks pink. It galled him to have to admit the truth, but he did. "Think I'm gettin' sick."

"Sick?" Buck's voice was soft.

"A cold… flu maybe."

"You think?" Buck pressed.

He hesitated a moment, then relented. "Okay, I _am_ gettin' sick."

Vin felt the ladies' man move, then his hand was resting lightly on his forehead. Buck hissed softly. "You've got a helluva fever."

"I know. Gettin' wet did it, I think. Glad we brought along the extra gear t' change into."

Buck ignored his attempt to change the subject. "What else?"

"Muscles are all sore, got some congestion in m' chest," he confessed, adding, "Sore throat, too. Felt fine yesterday, just that scratchy throat; didn't know it was gonna lead t' this. I didn't really notice anything wrong 'til I jumped… Damn it."

"Hey, it's okay," Buck soothed quietly. "It happens. Ya gonna be okay tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he said with as much conviction as he could muster.

"Try an' get some sleep," Buck told him, reaching out to quickly check his temperature again.

Vin heard a soft rustling sound, then the ladies' man was tucking his jacket around Tanner's shoulders. The warmth was a welcome relief, but he said, "Buck, I can't—"

"Shh," he shushed. "I was gettin' hot anyway."

"Thanks," he said as Buck moved away.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Nathan lay on the ground near the band of light that illuminated the fence line. There were no lookout towers that he could see, and no sentries in the immediate area. His eyes narrowed in anticipation. He had a damn good chance of clearing the eight-foot fence without being seen. He was about to make his move when he heard the chopper returning. He scrambled back, blending into the tree shadows, well out of the reach of the aerial spotlight, then waited for the old Huey to pass.

When it landed in the same place where it had lifted off from, Nathan moved back to the edge of the fence. The slope of the bisected hill put the spur of land he crouched on slightly higher than the wire. He held the MP5 to his chest with one hand, and lifted the netting with the other, then jumped. He hit the ground and shoulder-rolled to take up most of the force, then lay perfectly still.

Nothing happened.

Taking care that anyone watching would not notice him by movement alone, he crawled slowly out of the glow cast by the lights at the fence. After what seemed like hours, but was only minutes, Nathan lay in the shadows between the lighted fence and the first row of buildings.

Coming up onto his knees, then onto his feet, Nathan checked for anyone who might see him, and, finding no one, bent over and darted toward the nearest building.

He reached the deep shadows next to the wall just before a Jeep's headlights cut a path through the darkness. It drove around the building and proceeded on to a smaller structure two down from the one he was aiming for. Nathan waited an extra thirty seconds after they parked, then moved again to get a closer look.

A single light glowed outside the small structure, and the men he saw were wearing plain olive fatigues. He walked casually through a bloom of light to the building, then along the wall to a door. He tried the handle. It wasn't locked.

He pulled it open. No alarm. A moment later, he was inside with the door closed. Nathan took a penlight from his shirt pocket and used it to check the building. No cells, no guards, just a collection of tables, all of them covered with metal trays and bottles of chemicals; definitely not what they were after. He headed back to the same door he'd come in, but before he reached it the knob turned and the door opened outward. Someone spoke in a normal tone and another voice answered before a man stepped through the door and closed it.

Nathan was six feet from the intruder. He lunged forward. The man turned to see what was coming, but Nathan slammed the heavy butt of the MP5 against the man's head. He went down with a grunt, lying unconscious on the floor. Nathan stopped, looking at the fallen man for a moment, then grinned. _Yeah, he's big enough_.

Five minutes later, Nathan stepped out of the building dressed in the soldier's uniform and cap. The unconscious man was tied hand and foot, gagged, and stuffed into a closet in the building. Nobody would find him until morning, if he even woke up by then. And given the cobwebs in the closet, it might take even longer than that.

Nathan moved easier now, checking six more unlocked buildings, none of them where the prisoners were being held. Then he reached a one-story structure set somewhat apart from the rest. It was the one Larabee had noticed earlier, the one with the double lights front and back. He walked up to one side and began checking the door like a security man. The first one was locked; the second opened and he stepped inside.

One naked light-bulb in a corner of the building was enough to reveal that the interior was laid out with six individual barred cells, three on each side of the room. In each cell sat or lay a single man, all of them wearing jungle fatigues. They all looked like they had been beaten, several times, too. Two of Acosta's men sat at a table positioned under the light, playing cards. Shielding his MP5 from view, Nathan turned casually and started back outside, saying in Spanish, "Carry on."

He opened the door and heard the chopper lifting off again. He paused at the door as a brilliant beam from the chopper's spotlight washed over the building, then was gone. He stepped outside and headed back the way he'd come, angling steadily toward the fence.

Another Jeep rounded a corner, catching him in its headlights. He slowed to let the rig pass, but it rolled up beside him and stopped. The passenger in the Jeep asked in Spanish, "Long night, huh?"

Nathan growled that it was and waved them past.

"You want to make it go faster?" the man persisted, holding out a thick joint.

"No!" Nathan snapped. "Leave me to my duty!"

The man behind the wheel shrugged at his companion, then drove on. Nathan heard one of them say something about "dedicated socialists."

He let out a breath and walked directly to where he'd left Larabee. As he got closer, he caught sight of a slight movement. He stopped and concentrated on the small gully under the fence and found it considerably deeper. He watched as a hand dug a knife into the dirt and slowly dragged it backwards. Larabee was still there, working on the opening.

Nathan jogged through the semi-darkness between the buildings and the lighted fence. When he reached a spot near the blond, he called out softly, "Chris. Nate, coming out."

He heard a soft grunt and the hand and knife disappeared.

The chopper swung back, and Larabee rolled several times, moving away from the wire. Nathan dropped to the ground, rolled into a ball and lay perfectly still. He held his breath, silently praying that the door gunner wouldn't spot him. The chopper moved slowly along the fence-line, but didn't pause at the escape spot, and then it was past.

Nathan wanted to run, but he climbed to his feet and walked slowly to the lighted area, then checked to make sure no one was watching before he dropped to the ground and crawled as slowly as he could toward the fence and the enlarged escape hole.

It took him three minutes to cover fifteen feet. The hole looked big enough. _Head first_ , he decided, turning over onto his back. He worked his head under the wire in the little gully, pushing with his heels. The MP5 caught on the bottom of the wire and he pulled it free. He pressed forward again with his legs. The wire snagged his ammo pouch, then released him. A moment later he was under the wire and crawling slowly away from the light.

Twenty feet more and he was back in the comforting darkness of the jungle.

"You work fast," Larabee said just behind him.

"Damn, Chris, you scared the shit out of me."

"Nice new uniform. Keep it, we might need it later," Chris replied. "You found the place?"

"Roger that. It was just like you thought – the one with the twin lights. Six of our guys are in there, all in uniform. Two guards on duty. No sign of the Medera kid."

"Hopefully Travis' insider will be able to help us with that. Okay, let's get the hell out of Dodge."

Nathan nodded.

They hiked back the same way they had come. As they walked, Nathan filled Chris in on what had happened.

"Good work," Larabee replied.

Nathan grinned and kept hiking.

"Come on," Chris said, "let's pick up the pace and get back to the others. I want to get a few hours sleep before we crash Acosta's party tomorrow."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Team hideout in the jungle**

**November 10, 0330 Hours**

 

Nathan jumped slightly when a hand reached out and lightly tapped his ankle.

He looked down, finding Buck grinning up at him. The man was invisible, hidden behind broad leaves, but he had pulled one down to reveal his grinning face.

Squatting down beside the ladies' man, Nathan asked, "Something up?"

"Yeah," he replied just loud enough for the medic to hear, "Vin's sick – flu or something. Can you take a look?"

Nathan's grin faded. "Yeah, I'll look, but I don't have anything that'll help him."

Buck sat up. "Do whatever you can. I've gotta talk to Chris."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Team hideout in the jungle, 1500 Hours**

With the added warmth from Buck's jacket, Vin drifted off to sleep, not noticing when Nathan looked him over. In fact, he was unaware of anything at all until Chris gently shook him awake. The fact that it was already daylight registered first, then the fact that he and the others might be in danger.

"What?" he asked, automatically reaching for his sidearm, his arms sluggish and his fingers clumsy.

"Easy," Chris said. "Everything's fine. How're you?"

He didn't answer immediately, waiting for the fog of sleep to fade, then mentally reviewing his condition. His muscles still ached all the way to the bone, worse than before, and he was cold, but he could feel the sweat on his face. His chest was tight, painfully so, but at least he wasn't coughing.

"I've got somethin'," he admitted, his voice scratchy and low. "Cold, flu, I don't know, but I feel like roadkill the mornin' after."

Chris' green eyes narrowed with worry. "Can you finish the mission?"

"Think so," he said. Noting Larabee's dubious expression, he hastily added, "Don't think I can run through the jungle fer miles, but I can walk and handle m' weapon."

Larabee nodded, knowing Vin wouldn't intentionally lie to him. All the same, he planned to keep a close eye on him and his condition. "Okay," he said, offering him an encouraging smile, "let's head out. We're going to move up closer to the compound, then hit them as soon as it's good and dark."

Climbing unsteadily to his feet with Chris' help, he promised, "I'll be ready."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Outside Acosta's Compound, 1720 Hours**

 

They reached the staging spot close to the compound Larabee had chosen by early evening. Chris set a purposefully slow pace to allow Vin to build up some of his strength. He noted that the walking seemed to have helped, easing away some of the muscle aches as he'd hoped it would. They found good hide-holes and settled in to wait for darkness.

Hidden from any potential prying eyes, each of the team members pulled out an MRE and ate it, knowing that it might be a while before they could eat again. Vin had to force his down, but he did, then drained all of the water from one of the three canteens he carried.

Their meals finished, Larabee eased from his spot and set up the SATCOM unit so he could contact Josiah. The older man reported that he had a chopper secured and was standing by. Travis' back-up pilot was also there, waiting with him, so they'd have two choppers at the LZ – just in case anything went wrong.

Larabee gave Josiah the exact GPS coordinates for the primary LZ he'd chosen the night before, and two secondary ones, then signed off. He folded up the antenna and packed up the unit, then returned to his hide to quietly discuss how they should enter the compound over the Motorola units.

"Okay," Chris said half an hour later, summing up their decisions, "Buck, you and JD will set up diversionary charges at the west end of the compound. Make it at least a quarter mile from our attack position. Once that's done, pull back to the primary LZ and provide cover fire if we come in with tangos on our tail."

"Roger that," the ladies' man replied, sounding downright happy about the prospect of blowing things up. "It'll be just like the time—"

"Buck," JD interrupted.

"Sorry," he replied sheepishly.

"The rest of us will slip through the fence and get our people out," Chris concluded. "Everyone clear on which building we're targeting?"

"Roger that," Vin replied, his voice tired.

"Yes, I have it," Ezra added.

Chris left them to quietly check their weapons and eased out of his position again, this time to talk to Nathan.

"Tell me about Vin," he said softly when he reached the former corpsman.

Nathan shook his head. "There's not much I can tell you," he admitted. "He's got some kind of a bug, but I can't tell you what kind. I'm not really carrying anything that can help, either. I had him take some antibiotics, in case it's bacterial, but it looked more like a virus. I told him to keep drinking water, and gave him one of my canteens. Best I can do."

"Think he'll be up for this?"

Nathan thought a moment, then nodded. "He's tough. I think he'll be fine when the shit hits the fan."

Chris nodded.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

By 2030 hours Larabee had them all packed up and ready to go. "Use your NVGs," he said, "it'll help in this uneven terrain."

He watched as Vin took his position in the regular marching order. He was holding up well, but if they had to make a run for it he knew it could get real dicey, real quick.

They slowly hiked closer to the compound for almost an hour and were closing in when Larabee called a halt. He told himself that he did it so he could go to each of his people, checking them on their assignments and making sure the plan was clear to everyone, but he knew he'd really done it to give Vin a rest before the real work started.

Then they moved out again. Less than twenty minutes later they all lay in the trees, staring into the compound. Chris signaled Buck to go and the man melted into the darkness. Then he and the others moved up to within twenty yards of the fence and its lights to wait for the ladies' man to plant his charges.

An hour later, Buck radioed that he and JD were good to go.

Vin had a H&K PSG1 silenced sniper rifle ready to take out the lights on both sides of the spot where Larabee intended to cut the wire. But first they had to wait for the Jeep to reach their location. Then they would have nearly half an hour to get their work done. He checked his watch. They still had a little bit longer to wait.

At the same time as the night before, the chopper rose off the ground, slipping through the hole in the cammie netting and swinging off toward the village of Cacule.

"Maybe Senor Acosta has a senorita in the village," Ezra offered softly into his lip-mike.

"Let's just hope she can hold his attention for a while tonight," Chris replied. He was pleased to see the chopper leave. With the bird out of the way they had a much better chance of reaching the LZ without being discovered. He checked his watch again. The Jeep should reach them in less than two minutes, and it arrived right on time. As soon as it was past, Chris said into his lip-mike, "Buck, give us a count of thirty and start the show."

"Roger that. It'll be better than the Fourth of July," was the immediate reply from the ladies' man. "I only wish I had a band."

"Okay, people, let's go," Chris said, moving them to the fence as he silently counted from one to thirty.

A moment later, the first of the dull-sounding _karumphs_ of the diversionary explosions began erupting at the west end of the compound. Alarms immediately sounded and men rushed out of several of the buildings, weapons in their hands. The explosions continued at irregular intervals, some closer to the wire, some further away. Strings of extra-loud firecrackers sounded like automatic weapons fire, adding to the confusion.

Chris touched Vin's shoulder and the sniper fired through the fence at the first light. His silenced round took it out and he turned slightly, taking out the second bulb with another single shot. With that done, Chris moved forward, using wire-cutters to open a slit in the fence about four feet high. As he worked, Ezra, Nathan, and then Vin slipped through the growing hole. Finished, Chris himself eased through, then folded the flap back into place and secured it with a few thin wire-twists.

The four operators immediately spread out, moving toward the building they needed to secure. As they moved, they watched more armed men, running west. No one seemed to notice them, their attention focused in another direction. The four stopped just outside the wash of the lights on the target building.

"Hold," Chris said into his mike. He watched the building ahead of them intently until the door opened and two soldiers came out, one of them running off to the west, the other hesitating and then following.

"Damn, Chris, you must be psychic," Nathan said into his lip-mike.

Chris grinned, motioning the other up to the wall of the building. "Okay, we move on three."

Each member of the team knew exactly what their job was, and how to carry it out. Chris and Nathan would enter the building and secure the hostages. Vin and Ezra would ensure their escape.

"One… two… three," Chris counted, moving as soon as the last was out of his mouth.

The two men stormed into the building, Larabee taking the center to left-hand section. He spotted two guards and fired a half-dozen silent rounds, dropping both.

Nathan centered a second behind him, sweeping the center to right side of the building. He saw two soldiers in the process of bringing up their guns. He held the trigger back on the G-11 and splattered the two men with almost twenty rounds. They fell without ever having fired a shot.

Larabee rushed to the single desk under the bare light-blub. Grabbing the keys he found lying there, he bolted to the first cell and tried three before finding the one that opened the cell door. The man inside was smiling. "American?"

"As apple pie," Chris replied. "Everyone okay?"

"I'm Captain Chaves. One of my men's in pretty bad shape. Internal injuries from the crash," the soldier said.

Chris tossed him the keys. "Get the rest of these men free, we'll cover you. Nathan, check the wounded." He touched his lip-mike. "We have the packages. Coming out ASAP."

Hearing automatic-rifle fire outside, Chris moved to the doorframe. He saw three men lying on the ground, and three more in uniform, running toward the building. He pushed his MP5 around the doorframe and sprayed the advancing guards with three triple-round bursts as Vin and Ezra fired as well. The three men went down.

"Time to go," Nathan's voice announced in Larabee's ear a few seconds later.

Chris glanced behind him. Nathan and the five soldiers stood there, waiting. A sixth hung over the largest man's shoulders. "Where's Medera?" he asked the captain.

Chaves pointed to a closed door. "In there, last I saw."

"Nate," Chris said, nodding.

The medic bolted to the closed door, but found it locked. He tested four keys before he found the one that opened it. Inside, he found a young man standing in one corner, obviously frightened. The room was luxurious compared to the cells the others had occupied, and it was clear that he hadn't been beaten.

"Medera?" Nathan demanded, his eyes narrowing.

The young man nodded.

"Come with me. Now."

"Chris, we've got reinforcements startin' t' arrive," Vin announced in Larabee's ear.

"Time to go," Chris snapped. "Stay close."

Nate repeated the order in Spanish, but the three Honduran Rangers had understood Chris perfectly.

Vin laid down cover fire, allowing the others to move toward the fence.

Getting out of the compound was actually easier than Larabee had expected, the entire group slipping through the cut fence while Vin and Ezra provided cover. Then Nathan and Chris opened up from outside the fence while the two men slipped through as well. They disappeared into the trees, then turned, firing at the handful of Acosta's men who dared to follow them. Four fell and the rest stopped, then pulled back to the fence line.

"Okay, let's move," Chris said, reaching into his pack and pulling out NVGs for the six mobile men. "We've got a couple 'a choppers to meet."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

 

Jogging slowly through the jungle behind the freed hostages, Vin tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, but the constant burn in his lungs, and the increasing rebellion in his stomach was making that more and more difficult. He stumbled for the fourth time and this time started to fall, but strong hands caught him, holding him on his feet.

He looked up and gave Chris a grateful, if brief, smile. "Thanks."

"You okay?" the blond asked.

Before he could answer, his stomach turned over and he dropped to his knees, throwing up what was left of the MRE and water he'd managed to force down earlier. Long after the food was gone, his stomach continued to turn over, dry heaves racking his body in painful gripping waves. Through it all Chris knelt beside him, holding his hair out of his face and murmuring soft words of encouragement.

He coughed, fire searing through his lungs, causing more cold sweat to break out across his forehead. And to add to his misery, an unrelenting ache settled into his muscles, burrowing into his bones. "Help me up," he rasped softly.

Chris slipped his arm under his and helped Vin stand. A chill shook him and Chris quickly stripped off his jacket, giving it to Vin like Buck had the night before. This time he didn't object, shrugging it on with Larabee's help.

"Come on," Chris said, "we have to catch up."

Vin nodded, grinding his teeth in determination as he started off again.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The group halted in the trees not far from the plowed field Larabee had chosen as their primary landing zone, guided to the location by Buck, who with JD had kept up an endless stream of meaningless chatter. Chris checked each man again, finding two with minor injuries picked up during their escape. He called Nathan over to look them over.

Larabee saved Vin for last. He stood, bent slightly forward, his hands on his thighs, his breathing wheezy and fast.

"Hanging in there?" he asked, resting a supportive hand lightly on his shoulder. Heat radiated through the cloth of his black fatigues. He nodded, but he could see that his face was pale and damp with sweat. A cough racked his body and he groaned softly, his muscles shaking under Chris' touch.

"Easy," he soothed, "Josiah will be here soon."

He nodded again.

Five minutes later they heard the distant sounds of approaching choppers. Larabee let them fly directly overhead at a hundred feet, making sure that it was Josiah and his companion, and not the Huey from Acosta's compound. When he was sure, he activated an infra-red beacon and watched the two choppers swing back and drop down into the field.

"Let's go!" Larabee said, leading the way toward their waiting ride. Fifty yards short, he heard a low _whooshing_ sound that he knew was going to give him nightmares – an incoming rocket-propelled grenade.

Before he could yell for everyone to take cover, the first rocket, then a second struck one of the choppers. The second bird popped into the sky and swung away just as the first burst into flames. A moment later the fuel ignited and exploded and there was nothing left of the machine but fiercely burning pieces of metal and dead crewmen.

Vin crouched and fired back at the location of the launch flash. He was rewarded by a piercing scream.

"No!" Chris yelled into his lip-mike, halting Nathan and the other men who had started to scramble for the downed chopper. "They're dead; we can't help them. Let's go!"

Former hostages and team members rushed for the second chopper as it dropped down again, hanging just off the ground near the trees. Chris reached the bird first, waving and barking, "Move! Move! Move!"

The Americans and Honduran Rangers scrambled on board, still carrying their wounded man. Nathan was right behind them.

"Come on!" Chris yelled at Medera, but the boy suddenly bolted to the left, charging into the trees, Ezra and Vin both immediately on his heels.

Another _whooshing_ sound announced the arrival of another RPG. Larabee and Buck threw themselves to the ground as JD scrambled onboard. The grenade exploded in the trees nearby.

Chris shot to his feet and pounded on the side of the helicopter, yelling, "Go! Get out of here!" He saw Josiah behind the controls, and the older man nodded. The chopper popped into the air and quickly sped away, wagging as it went to avoid any more RPGs.

"Come on," Larabee said, slapping Buck on the shoulder. "Let's go find them."

"Acosta's men are going to be all over this jungle," Buck warned, right on the blond's heels.

"We'll just have to stay one step ahead of 'em!" Chris replied, but he was already worrying about how they were going to manage that with Vin sick.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

A half-hour later, Chris and Buck came to an abrupt halt when they found Vin leaning heavily against a tree trunk. Next to him Ezra stood, one fist wrapped in Medera's shirtfront, the other pulled back, ready to pop the kid right in the face.

"Ezra," Chris snapped.

Standish cursed softly, but instead of hitting the boy, he shoved the Honduran hard, sending Medera falling roughly to the ground.

"Tie him up," Larabee instructed Buck, then walked over to Vin, whose eyes were closed, each breath sounding wet and wheezy. "Hey," he said, reaching out to give his shoulder a squeeze and noting that his fever was worse.

Vin's blue eyes blinked open, and even in the darkness Chris could see that they were slightly glassy from the fever. "I'm ready," he said, pushing weakly away from the tree.

He pushed him back against it. "Rest," he ordered. Calling Buck over when he was done with Medera, he instructed, "Get Josiah on the SATCOM. Let's set up another pickup using LZ Victor." He fished into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook. He flipped it open to the first page and handed it to the ladies' man. On the paper were the GPS coordinates for the primary and two back up landing zones.

 

Buck nodded. "I'll have the taxi back in no time," he said as cheerfully as he could. He flashed Vin an encouraging grin.

He nodded, but didn't have the energy to return the gesture.

Chris watched Ezra take charge of Medera when Buck began unpacking the SATCOM unit, then turned back to Viin. "Hey, you hangin' in there?"

He nodded.

"What were you thinking?" he asked, although not unkindly. "You should've gotten on the bird."

Tanner looked up, meeting his concerned gaze. "Didn't think," he admitted, "just reacted. He bolted. Went after him. Simple as that. Thought didn't have much t' do with it."

Larabee shook his head. "You did the right thing… under normal circumstances."

"This ain't normal circumstances," he cut in. "I know. I'm not thinkin' too clear right now."

"That's okay," Chris said, giving his shoulder a gentle pat. "I probably would've done the same thing."

"Damned right y' would've," Vin said, trying to sound firm.

Larabee grinned. "Well, just hang in there. It won't be too much longer."

"Chris," Buck said, walking up to join them. "We have a problem."

Larabee cursed silently and glanced heavenward. _Just once I'd like to catch a break when we really need it_ , he thought. "What is it?" he asked.

Buck glanced once at Vin, concern clear in his worried expression. "That injured soldier took a turn for the worse. Josiah's gotta get him to a medical facility ASAP. He's guessing he won't be able to get back for us before first light."

"Then we're stuck here for another day," Chris sighed.

Buck nodded. "Afraid so. He said he'd be back as soon as it was good and dark."

"Lotta good that's gonna do him," Chris added softly, nodding at Vin. He sucked in a deep breath, then said, "Okay, nothing we can do about it except find someplace to hide and wait."

Vin held up his hand, saying softly, "Listen."

The other men paused. "Acosta's men," Buck said softly.

Ezra nodded at Vin. "Mr. Tanner isn't going to make it much farther in his condition."

"I'll take Vin," Chris said. "Buck, you take point. Ezra, you keep an eye on Mr. Medera here. Let's go. Ten yard intervals." He turned to Vin, who shot him an annoyed look.

"I can walk," he argued weakly.

"We need to move a little faster than that," Chris said. "You're riding piggyback, and that's an order."

Vin briefly considered arguing, but another cough pulled at his lungs, trying to turn them inside out as he smothered the sound against his arm. Looking up at Chris, he nodded.

"Hand your gear over to the other two," he ordered and Tanner complied.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

For the next several hours they played a deadly game of hide and seek with the Honduran guerrillas. As dawn approached a light drizzle began to fall, slowly soaking all of them. Chris could feel Vin's fever building; the increasing heat where he lay, pressed against his back, was enough to make him sweat as well. Vin had passed out, or fallen asleep, about an hour earlier, his rattling breaths making Larabee increasingly nervous.

"Hold," Buck said softly into Chris' ear receiver.

Larabee stopped, listening intently for any sound that might tell them that Acosta's men had located them, but there was nothing. A moment later he heard Buck say, "I found an old hut, boys. Looks deserted. Ain't much, but it's dry."

"Roger that," Chris replied as the rain began to pick up, silently thanking the Fates for a break they really needed.

He listened to Vin's labored breathing for a moment, then headed out to find Buck and the hut. Maybe, just maybe, they'd all get out of this alive.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Abandoned hut, Honduran jungle**

**11 November, 0600 Hours**

 

Medera watched as Chris slowly lowered Vin down onto the floor. His eyes opened and he blinked owlishly, looking around the abandoned hut. The young man shook his head. "Why did you bring a sick man?" he demanded, his tone disgusted.

Chris straightened and turned toward Medera, but before he could say anything, Vin rasped, "Because 'm still twice the man you are."

Medera drew himself up, his expression the same as if he'd been slapped. " _Puta_ ," he snarled, then spat at him.

Ezra, standing closest to the Honduran, landed a powerful uppercut to the young man's chin. Medera dropped heavily to the ground, unconscious.

Vin's eyes widened, but he looked up at Ezra and smiled thinly. "Thank ya."

"It was my distinct pleasure," he said with a smile, then scowled and shook his hand. "Ow."

Chris looked down at Vin. "How're you feeling?"

He shrugged, saying weakly, "Probably live, but I doubt 'm gonna enjoy it much."

He grinned. "Try to drink some water. You need to stay hydrated."

Vin grimaced at the thought of putting anything in his tender stomach, but he knew Chris was right. His hands trembled as he reached for the canteen hooked to his belt, then he realized he'd given all his gear to Buck and Ezra.

"Here ya go," Buck said, holding out a canteen.

"Thanks," Tanner said, accepting the proffered container. Buck had already unthreaded the cap and he flashed him his thanks with a tired smile.

"Any time," he.

"Ezra, take first watch; out about fifteen to twenty yards," Chris instructed as he grabbed Medera's still-unconscious body and dragged him to one corner of the room.

"But… it's raining."

"Gee," Chris replied, as he began to tie Medera's hands and feet, "I didn't notice. One of us will switch with you in three hours."

"Ain't like you're gonna melt," Buck teased lightly.

Ezra shot the sniper a frown, then sighed heavily, picked up his MP5 and headed outside.

"I'll finish," Buck told Chris, jerking his chin in Vin's direction.

"Thanks," Larabee replied.

The blond sat down next to his lover, then reached out to check his fever. "Damn, Vin, you're burnin' up."

Vin forced down a couple more swallows of water, then nodded. "Feel like shit, too," he admitted, eyes heavy with pain and exhaustion.

Chris took the canteen and screwed the cap back on tight, then set it down beside him. Without thinking, he slipped his arm around Vin's shoulders and hugged him close.

Vin snuggled against him, grateful for the warmth. "I'll be okay, Cowboy," he said thickly, eyes dropping closed. "Just need a hot bath… few days sleep… maybe some TLC…"

"You damn well better be fine," Chris replied softly. "We've got a volleyball game next week, and I don't plan on buyin' the other guys dinner."

"Kick butt," he muttered, resting his head on Larabee's shoulder.

He pulled Vin closer, then heard his breath slow as sleep overtook him. He reached up and gently stroked his hair.

"He asleep?" Buck asked.

Chris lifted his free hand and placed his index finger against his lips.

Buck nodded. It was what Tanner needed most right now.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Abandoned hut, 1900 Hours**

 

Vin struggled to consciousness. He was aware of two things – he was warm for the first time in a long time, and someone was moving around, trying not to make any noise. He let his thoughts settle, then opened his eyes, taking in the scene.

Medera was tied up and gagged in the corner. He glared at Vin, but the sniper ignored him. Buck was gone, and Ezra was tiptoeing across the single room, looking nervous. He looked past Standish at the door-less portal to the hut. It was getting dark. He'd slept all day.

The sudden realization that he was nestled up against Chris shot through him, making him blush. _He must've sat here, holdin' me all day_ , he thought. His eyes closed.

 _Well, 'a course he did_ , he scolded himself. _Reckon I'd've done the same if things were switched._

He opened his eyes again.

"Well, it appear that Sleeping Beauty's is finally awake," Ezra said grinning, then he shifted his gaze to Larabee and asked, "You didn't kiss him, did you? His condition could be contagious."

Chris snorted and Vin sighed softly and sat up.

"Good mornin'," Larabee said, ignoring Ezra. "Well, evenin', anyway."

Vin grinned sheepishly, then reached up and ran his hand over his hair. "Sorry, didn't mean—"

"Hey, stop right there," Chris scolded him. "How do you feel?"

Tanner thought a moment, then shrugged. "Better, I guess."

"You want something to eat?" Chris asked.

He shook his head, watching as Chris climbed slowly to his feet. He took a step toward the door and nearly fell. Ezra grabbed him, holding him on his feet until the feeling returned to his legs. Larabee grimaced and stomped his feet as the pins and needles sensation attacked him. As soon as that had passed, he hurried outside, hobbling as he went.

Ezra turned back to Vin, grinning.

"What's wrong with 'im?" Vin asked, his mind too sluggish to decide for himself.

Standish's grin widened. "I think he's in rather a desperate haste to go water the—"

Vin held up his hand to stop him. "I get the picture," he growled.

A few minutes later, Buck stepped inside, looking hopeful. "Hey, you feeling better?"

Vin nodded as he stood, using the wall for support. The ladies' man crossed to him, just in time to grab his shoulders as a deep, racking cough grabbed his chest in a fiery embrace. Vin's knees buckled and Buck held his entire weight as he fought against the congestion. He spat and Buck helped him ease back down to sit on the ground, his hand pressed tightly against his aching chest.

"Are you okay?" Buck demanded.

He nodded, then gasped, "Yeah… Damn… that hurt."

"Easy," Buck said, glancing up nervously at Ezra, who simply shrugged, not knowing what he could do to help. "Vin," he added, "it's almost dark. We need to get going."

Tanner nodded and started to climb to his feet again when another uncontrollable coughing fit doubled him over. Buck waited until it passed, then quickly called Chris in from where he was standing guard outside.

"Time to go," the ladies' man said. "You gonna carry him again?"

Chris nodded.

They all quickly arranged their gear while Vin leaned back against the wall of the hut, his eyes closed and his face pinched. His weakness annoyed him, but there was little he could do about it.

When they were ready to move out, Ezra walked over and dragged Medera to his feet while Buck helped Vin to his, then helped him up onto Chris' back, piggyback fashion again.

"Okay," Chris said, shifting Vin slightly and silently marveling at how light he was, "we head straight for the LZ. Buck, you're on point again. Ezra, you and Medera are behind me." He looked pointedly at the young man. "And if he gives you any trouble, shoot him."

"With pleasure," Ezra replied.

Without another word, they headed for the LZ and their ride home.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**At the secondary landing zone, 2300 Hours**

 

Hidden in the trees that grew next to a plowed but unplanted field, Larabee scanned the dark, star-bright skies for any sign of Josiah. He was late.

Glancing down at Vin, he found him sleeping again, or unconscious. It was impossible to tell which. Buck was crouched next to him, guarding him with an MP5 in his hands. They hadn't heard or seen any of Acosta's men looking for them, but Larabee knew they were out there. Luckily, it was a big jungle.

The distant but familiar _wop-wop-wop_ of an approaching helicopter reached the blond's ears. "Heads up, people," he said, "this might be it."

They all waited anxiously at the very edge of the trees.

The chopper drew closer and finally passed over them. Buck pumped his fist into the air once, saying softly, "Yes!"

Chris grinned as he activated an infra-red beacon, shining it out of the trees. The chopper wagged, then swung around and started to land, but the LZ suddenly turned hot.

"Acosta's men have found us!" Ezra hissed as he turned back to find Vin on his feet.

"Ezra, you and Medera in front, Buck—"

"Negative," the ladies' man interrupted. "You take Vin, I'll give y'all the cover you need."

Larabee didn't bother to argue. Buck was right.

Josiah angled the chopper closer to the trees where they waited, Acosta's men still firing, but they weren't close enough to be a real threat, not yet, anyway. But as soon as they reached the tree line, they would have a direct bead on the chopper.

Buck grabbed Medera's arm. "You bolt again, I'll put a bullet in the middle of your back," he snarled, his tone as dangerous as the expression on his face.

Medera tried to look angry, but he was too afraid of the man to pull it off.

Ezra grabbed Medera's arm and they left the cover of the trees, sprinting for the waiting ride. Chris wrapped his arm around Vin's waist, half-carrying, half-supporting him as they also dashed for their ride home. Tanner's legs pumped as hard as he could manage for several steps, but then they gave out on him.

Chris scooped him up over his shoulder and charged for the open hatch.

Buck moved along slightly out in front of the foursome, firing a steady stream of three-round bursts into the trees where they were taking fire from. In his peripheral vision he saw Nathan reach out and pull Medera on board. Ezra scrambled in next, then reappeared at the hatch, giving Chris and Vin additional cover fire.

A bullet whizzed past the ladies' man's ear, striking the chopper with a ping that rang loud in Buck's ears. He edged closer to the chopper, then knelt down, quickly changed clips and continued firing as Chris and Vin reached the chopper.

"Help me!" Larabee bellowed.

Nathan reached out and grabbed Vin, hauling him inside.

Chris dove through the open hatch, then scrambled back. "Buck!" he yelled. "Come on!"

Buck rose into a crouch, quickly working his way back to the waiting bird, still firing the entire way. His back hit the chopper a moment before three pairs of hands grabbed him, pulling him inside.

"Josiah, go!" Larabee roared.

The chopper lurched into air and swung sharply away from Acosta's men, the skids raking through the treetops. Releasing Buck, Nathan scrambled to Vin's side, beginning an examination of the unconscious man. "He's having a lot of trouble breathing!" he called out, then pointed. "Hand me the oxygen!"

Closest to the box with the O2, Ezra grabbed it and shoved it over to Nathan.

Chris scooted closer to the corpsman, watching him as he worked.

Buck crawled forward and pulled two blankets from the supplies under one of the bench seats, carrying them over to Vin. "Here," he said, handing one to Chris.

Together the two men bundled Tanner up while Nathan got the oxygen mask over his mouth.

Twenty minutes later they crossed into Guatemalan airspace.

"How's he doing?" Chris asked his medic.

Nathan reached out, checking Vin's fever, then his pulse. "He's hanging in there," he reported. "I think he might have pneumonia."

"Pneumonia?" Larabee echoed.

Buck shook his head. "That boy never does anything by halves."

"We'll know more once we get him to a hospital."

"A quiet weekend in the country," Ezra announced.

"What?" Buck asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"A quiet weekend in the country," Ezra repeated. "That's what we need. You know, rest, relax—"

"I think we do," Chris interrupted. "Hell, Travis owes us that much. As soon as he's up to it, we're _all_ taking a vacation."

 

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Private Ski Lodge Cabin Suite, Lake Tahoe, Nevada**

**20 November, 0800 Hours**

 

Vin watched as his teammates carried in two trays loaded with food and hot drinks. Buck, with a tray of sliced fresh fruit, was shepherding JD, who carried a tray over-laden with an assortment of sweet, gooey pastries. Nathan, Josiah, and Ezra all carried trays with eggs, bacon, sausage, and two cups each of steaming gourmet coffee. His stomach growled in anticipation.

They set the food and drinks down on the large coffee table in the living room of the private cabin Travis was paying for. Beyond the glass windows that took up nearly all of one wall, he could see the snow-capped Sierras, sparkling in the morning sunlight. And on the mountainside he could see hikers and mountain bikers and joggers making their morning runs. A large fireplace snapped nearby, and Vin sighed, enjoying the comfortable sofa and the feeling of peace that filled him.

Not only was he healing up quickly, but the Americans and Honduras were back on friendly terms. Carlos Medera, however, was in deep shit with his father, but at least the Minister now knew the truth. And the war with the drug lords and the leftists continued.

And after spending four days in the hospital, then three more in bed at the beach house, Vin was more ready to get back to living again, if not back to work right away. And a week at Lake Tahoe was as good a place to start as any. He planned to soak in the hot tub that sat on their enclosed back patio and watch the wildlife, then maybe he'd play some Blackjack in the hotel casino, maybe take in a show, if he didn't run out of energy too soon.

He grinned. One thing he wouldn't have to worry about was eating. The others were all going above and beyond the call to make sure he had plenty, all the time. They had to "fatten him up" as Buck had put it.

He shook his head, watching as Nathan and JD argued about what should go on his plate. _Well_ , he decided, Buck wasn't too far wrong. _Can't believe I lost twelve pounds_ _in that jungle_.

"I'll take two 'a those t' start," Vin said, pointing to the glazed croissants, and interrupting the argument. "And some 'a that pineapple, too."

JD transferred the two pastries to a plate and handed it to him. Nathan fixed a small bowl of pineapple and did the same.

"Thanks," Vin said, then accepted a cup of coffee from Josiah, wondering if this was how men with harems felt, and deciding he could get used to it, for a few more days, anyway.

"So, what's everybody doing today?" JD asked, looking around at the others.

"I will be joining a poker game," Ezra announced. "Don't wait up for me," he added.

Buck snorted. "That the best you can do, Slick?" he asked, using the man's call sign. "Me, I've got a date with that pretty little redheaded showgirl… uh, Bambie, I think it is."

JD's eyes rounded. "The one with the enormous—"

"IQ," Josiah cut in and the others laughed.

JD blushed a little as he announced, "I'm going to go do some mountain biking."

"Just don't break anything," Nathan cautioned him, then grinned. "Raine and me are going to the spa."

"Spa?" Buck questioned, wrinkling his nose.

"Yeah, you know," Nathan said, "massages, champaign, funny little finger food… makes you all nice and relaxed…"

Buck suddenly grinned. "And amorous!"

Nathan dipped his head, blushing slightly. "Yeah, Buck, and that."

Everyone chuckled as Nathan beat a quick retreat.

"Enjoy, brother," Josiah called after him.

"What're you going to do?" Buck asked the older man.

"Oh, probably read for a while, then go play some slots until the show starts," he replied.

Vin looked up at Chris. "What about you, Cowboy?"

Larabee shrugged. "Me, I'm gonna stay here, make sure you don't do anything crazy."

Vin grinned. "Could grab a soak in that hot tub…"

Four pairs of eyes widened slightly.

"Son, you're supposed to be _resting_ ," Josiah scolded.

Vin tried to look as innocent as possible as he replied, "That is restin', 'Siah."

"Think he's feelin' better, stud," Buck stage whispered to Chris. "Ya just be sure to hang out the 'do not disturb sign.'"

"Get out, all of you," Chris growled and the men quickly left, all of them grinning as they did.

Larabee waited for them to go, then shook his head and turned back to Vin. "So, you really want to give the hot tub a go?"

"Damn straight I do. I'm feelin' a lot better… just need a little… exercise t' help me build m' strength back."

"Vin…" Chris said his eyes narrowing as he watched Vin pushed to his feet.

"Come on, Cowboy…" Tanner said, trailing off as he sidled up to the blond and wrapped his arms around him, then kissed him.

It was Larabee who was short of breath when they finally parted. "We better get in that tub," he said, "before I find another kind of exercise for you."

Vin quickly shed his thick terry robe and walked naked to the tub, climbing in and sinking into the water with a loud sigh.

"Son of a bitchin' tease," Chris muttered, shaking his head and trailing after him, shedding his own clothes as he did. Then he stopped, and hurried back to the door, quickly opening it and slipping the do-not-disturb placard on the handle, then closing the door and locking it.

He stalked back to the hot tub to find Vin sunk down in the water to his chin, and looking like he'd just found a slice of heaven on earth. He climbed in and settled down next to his lover.

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, letting the hot water jets work their magic. Then Vin turned his head and smiled at him, his hand sliding down Larabee's thigh.

"Vin, you're supposed to be _resting_ ," Chris said, catching the man's hand before Tanner could run his hand back up his thigh.

"Mmm, yep, that's what I'm doin'," Tanner purred. He stood in the tub and maneuvered himself so he was standing in front of the blond, wiggling between Chris' open thighs. Then, leaning down, he captured the man's mouth and plundered it.

Larabee's hands came up to rest on Vin's hips, soon sliding back to grasp his ass cheeks, his fingers curling into the firm muscle and squeezing possessively. That had Tanner's cock rising to attention in no time flat.

          Chris let one hand stray from Vin's ass, using it to grab the man's cock, giving it a good squeeze. Vin moaned into Larabee's mouth, his hips twitching as the blond began to rub his thumb over the sensitive tip.

          "Oh God," Tanner gasped as he broke the kiss.

          Chris chuckled as he squeezed just behind Tanner's glans, then bent his head and flicked his tongue over the tiny slit.

          Vin threw his head back, his body arching as he tried to press into Chris' mouth.

          "Huh-uh," Larabee grunted. "Bed."

          "Damn, sonuva—" Vin started, but he gasped as Chris took the head of his cock into his mouth for one too-brief moment.

          "Bed, now," Larabee growled.

          This time Vin was ready to comply. He climbed from the hot tub, raining water down on Larabee as he did. He grabbed a towel off a nearby rack, and was rubbing himself dry as he headed for the large bed they were sharing in one of the suite's bedrooms.

          Chris followed him, also grabbing a towel and trying to rub off as much of the water as he could before he reached the bed. He climbed onto the bed with Vin and they merged into it in a tangle of arms and legs, passions rising as they kissed and touched and tasted each other for the first time since the mission to Honduras.

Vin ended up on his back, breathing hard, and Chris took the opportunity to reach for the tube of KY he'd left in a small drawer set into the ornate headboard.

The younger man looked up at him, his pupils dilated with pleasure, and smiled. It was a rather dreamy expression, but the smile Tanner got in reply was more predatory.

Shifting on the bed, Chris settled between Vin's open legs. "Bend your knees," he told the man, and Vin complied.

Chris squeezed some of the KY out onto his fingertips, then smeared it along Vin's crack. He added some more to his fingers, then pressed one inside Vin's ass as he reached over and grabbed his aching cock, guiding it to his mouth.

Working his finger in and out, he sucked and licked until Vin was lifting and lowering his hips, desperately seeking to do two things at once. Chris added a second finger and shifted the angle so he could reach Tanner's pleasure spot.

Vin keened softly, grinding his ass down on Chris' fingers. "Chris," he panted, "'m close… so close…"

Larabee allowed his teeth to drag along Vin's shaft before he sucked hard on the head. Tanner arched up, crying out Chris' name as he came, his body shaking with the force of his climax.

Chris rode it out, swallowing Tanner's seed and then suckling his cock until Vin finally collapsed back onto the bed, sucking in air.

As the man recovered, Larabee withdrew his fingers and used one of the towels to wipe his hands and chin.

Vin blinked owlishly at him, a contented smile curling the corners of his mouth. "Mmm," he said, "that was good."

"You up for this?" Chris asked him, and Vin nodded, rolling over onto his side and pulling his top leg up to make his ass more accessible.

Larabee reached for the KY again, this time using it to cover his cock. He wiped off his hand again, then reached down and rubbed the tip of his cock up and down Vin's crack, stopping occasionally to press lightly at the puckered ring of muscle. Before long Vin was pushing back.

Chris pushed harder, popping his cock into his lover's ass. They both gasped and sighed in unison, then Larabee began rocking his hips, slowly sinking himself into Vin's body.

Tanner lay still, letting Chris do all the work, but reveling in the feel of the man's cock as it filled his ass. He reached down and started stroking his flaccid cock, slowly coaxing it back to hardness as Chris began to lengthen his strokes and pick up speed.

A few minutes later and the blond was piercing Vin's ass with hard, fast thrusts, but the angle wasn't exactly what Vin wanted. He mewed his need and Chris slowed, allowing Tanner to shift over onto his belly. He lifted his hips and Larabee grabbed two of the pillows and shoved them under.

Then, pulling Vin's ass cheeks apart, he started stabbing into him again, returning immediately to the same hard, fast pace that was now battering the younger man's prostrate.

Vin's hips jerked and twitched and he forced his hand down to grab his cock, pulling on it as he felt another climax getting closer.

Chris released Vin's ass, dropping over so his hands were braced on the bed on either side of Vin's chest. Coming up on his toes, he used gravity to slam into Vin's ass again and again as his own climax neared.

But Vin came first, frantically humping the pillows as he jerked himself off. And it was the wild explosion of Vin's muscle spasms that drove Chris over the edge as well. He drove himself in as deep as he could, his hip grinding hard against Tanner's ass as he grunted and emptied himself into the man.

And even when he was empty, he stayed where he was, his sweat dripping onto Vin's naked back as his cock slowly softened enough for him to slide free.

As soon as he did, he climbed over Vin and lay down, using the towel to clean himself up a little while his breathing slowly returned to normal.

Vin rolled onto his side again and snuggled close. "Ya feel so good, Chris."

"You should talk," Larabee said with a chuckle, wrapping an arm around the man and trying to pull the covers up to keep them from getting cold. They dozed for a while, then, after a quick trip to the shower, they returned to the hot tub, half-floating in the water, their eyes half-closed.

"So, what do you want to do today?" Chris asked.

"Mmm," Vin replied. "Food… maybe a show… get t' bed early…"

Chris chuckled. "Sounds like a plan to me, but are you sure you're up for it?"

"Will be by then, Cowboy, y' can count on that," Tanner told him with a hungry purr.

The blond shook his head, still amazed by the fact that their sex life remained so vibrant even after so long together. Looking over at the man, he smiled, just enjoying the fact that Vin was once again healthy, and the fact that they were on vacation. He'd leave the gambling, mountain biking, and other more strenuous activities to the others. As far as he was concerned, he'd be happy to spend the majority of his time right here in the suite, enjoying the views, the hot tub, and his lover.

Vin seemed to be reading his mind, too.

"Boys'll get pissed if'n we leave that 'do not disturb' sign up all the time."

"Tough," Chris replied. "I'm thinkin' they might just need to get themselves rooms at the casino hotel."

"Y' are, huh?"

"Don't you think it's a good idea?"

"Best one I've heard in a while, Cowboy," Vin agreed.

 


End file.
